Peeta and I are just relaxing on the couch while my mother continues to talk on the phone. Her voice sounds excited for some odd reason.
“Okay…I won’t… Bye!” I am getting curious to who my mother was talking to, but I don’t ask her about it. After she hangs up the phone, she rushes out of the house before I even have time to ask where she is going.
Peeta and I just lounge around for a while. We thought of small details for the wedding such as: the colors. I know I wanted a blue the color of Peeta’s eyes, with a complimentary pale sea greens. I decided I wanted to have Johanna and Annie as my bridesmaids, which means we have to find a dress for them…
“So the guest list,” Peeta brings up.
“That won’t be long,” I add.
“Well, you never know? Maybe we have more friends than you think.” Peeta says as I get a piece of paper and a pencil.
Let the list begin:
Annie and Flynn Cresta
Johanna Mason
Haymitch Abernathy
Effie Trinket
Flavius Ascencio
Octavia Bundy
Greasy Sae?
Wow, a total of seven people at our wedding, possibly eight. I mean, I’m fine with having that many people at our wedding. I don’t like people anyway so this should work out just fine.
“If we can count the number of guests on our hands, that is kind of sad,” Peeta makes known.
“I’m okay with that. The less people that attend, the better.” I state.
“I know you’re not a fan of, like people, but it is our wedding.”
“Well what other people do we know that aren’t dead.” Those words just slip right from my lips.
Peeta says in a quitter voice, “Let’s see…” after about five minutes of thinking Peeta finally speaks, “How about Caesar? I’m sure he’d love to come.”
“We can’t, he already thinks we are married. I wouldn’t want to invite him anyway. He’s too…” I can’t think of a word to describe him.
“He’s too… what?” Peeta laughs.
“I can’t think of a word right now, but you know what I mean,” I ramble.
“Okayy.” Peeta says dragging the ‘y’, “What about Plutarch?” (A/N: ik, just wait…)
I paused before I answered because I haven’t talk to him or heard anything about him. “I guess…”
“What do you mean you guess?” He says getting a glass of water.
“I’ve had enough wedding for today.” I admit, it’s beginning to stress me out.
All of the sudden my mother comes rushing into the house. “Peeta, I need to talk to you,” she frantically says. She shoos me away so I just go upstairs to get dressed in decent clothes.
My closet is filled with t-shirts and sweaters. Leggings and sweatpants, with an occasional appearance of jeans. Boots and sneakers. My father’s hunting jacket makes the count as well. I like my shirts rather big so I just normally wear Peeta’s t-shirts.
I get dressed in a dark blue top with my ever-so-comfy black leggings. I take my fingers through my hair and braid it. I take one last quick glance in the mirror before I make my way back downstairs. Peeta and my mother both jump when they see me. My mother once again shoos me off, and this time I can’t help but think why. She has been acting so jumpy lately, it’s kinda freaking me out.
